When I'm Small
by Anymousse
Summary: "The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." -Ernest Hemingway - She didn't want to hurt anybody—neither did he. They liked that about each other. Older!ClemxArvo, and other variations from canon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so I'm guilty of shipping Older!ClemxArvo. I was heartbroken when he shot her, so I'm gonna change some shit around—especially since Telltale pissed me off with how they handled most things in the last few episodes. In my story Clementine was born a few years earlier than canon, she was twelve going on thirteen when the outbreak occurred, making her fifteen current day in my story. I thought it'd be interesting to see how her age during what she went through would affect her, so my **

**Clem will be a little bit different. This is intentional.**

**Story is named after the song When I'm Small by Phantogram.**

**If anyone is interested I'd love a beta reader. Lord knows how many mistakes and errors I miss. I hope you lot enjoy!**

**1234567890**

She was sitting on a bench, forearms rested on the attached table with her fingers knitted together. Her gaze steadily beamed down onto her hands, breaths shallow as her shoulders fraily levelled up and down.

Her name was Jane, a woman I assumed to be in her early to mid twenties. She had a self-serving attitude, disregarding everyone when there's a chance of death. Well, damn near everyone. She seemed to have a soft spot for those younger than her, particularly girls. She had taken me under her wing, so to say, teaching me how to survive against walkers and humans alike.

"Are you okay?" I softly questioned, resting a pale chocolate toned hand on her shoulder.

She roused, staring up at me shocked before recalling her surroundings. She had gone off into her own little world, a dangerous thing to make a habit of in today's world. She hadn't even noticed my presence, a very un-Jane thing to do. What happened to the lethal femme fatale who has been looking out for me, and vice versa?

"Getting lost in thought isn't the safest habit these days," She mused, "Which is a reason why it can be good to have someone watching your back."

She rose up gracefully yet somehow crudely, "So, come on, partner, let's go check out that deck. I like the height."

She brushed past me, a small smile lifting her lips, "Partner?" I asked jokingly, an eyebrow raised in faked exasperation.

"Don't let it go to your head," She elbowed me lightly, "Let's go."

We paused at the stairs leading up to the observation deck, narrowed eyes taking in the almost frail looking wood. It's definitely seen better days—here's to hoping that it'll work for Rebecca and her baby.

"I hope this place is what we're looking for," Jane said, her tone raised in tiredness, "God knows we could use a break."

Nodding briefly, we carefully trekked up the creaking wooden steps. The platform looked relatively safe, and the cannons held an ironic sense of decor. Upon closer inspection I found that they were filled up with cement; what a disappointment.

"Check this out!" Jane said quickly, rousing my attention from the lackluster old weapons, "This gate's still locked, which means that hopefully no one's gotten to whatever's in there in the first place. Who knows what could be in there."

"Rebecca could give birth in there." I muttered, sending the older woman a slight smile.

Birth. I was there when Christa gave birth—hell, I stitched her up myself. I saw a little too much of her that day than I _ever_ wanted to see, but the feelings of joy when the baby came out were outstanding.

Then I realized the baby wasn't crying. Christa had given birth to a stillborn baby boy.

Jane agreed with me, forcing me to withdraw myself from my thoughts, "Yeah. that's what I thought," She pulled out a metal nail file, "Maybe I can pick the lock?"

I nearly laughed at her, but couldn't help but to nod my head. I remember as a little girl when I irritated Sandra she'd lock me in my room—I'd always pick the lock with my favorite shiny nail file.

Jane kneeled down, haphazardly shaking her hand with the file inside the lock trying to unfasten it, "Y'know, it wouldn't hurt to try a heavier hand with this thing. See if you can find something bigger; we might need to bust the mechanism."

Walking around the small area, I ruled out the side room and the apparently empty trash can. Fuck it; if Jane can't unlock it then I'll try my hand at it.

"There's nothing, unless you want to try bashing it with the cannon," I told her, staring down at her form nonchalantly with my hands in the hideous jacket, "If you really can't unlock it, I have some experience with it."

She scoffed, "Thanks Houdini, but for now will you look out and see if there are any places nearby in case neither of us can open it?"

I hummed shortly in agreement, going towards the nearest telescope. There was what appeared to be a church in the distance, but Jane quickly shot that down due to distance. Rolling my eyes, I stepped back and looked down. My breath hitched in my throat, shock and fear widening my eyes before I steeled myself.

"Jane, there's a man coming towards us," I crouched down and slowly back away, "By himself, holding a large bag. I think he's wearing a leg brace."

We carefully moved towards the small yet solid fence, Jane pearing above it to see for herself.

"Shit, he's coming our way," She muttered, "And who knows if he has friends or not. We should scope him out—we can't take chances here. We don't know if he'll come back while the group's here."

"I'll talk to him," I said quickly, knowing Jane's idea of scoping someone out involves much violence. She stared at me for a moment, giving a slight nod after seeing my determination.

She peeked over her shoulder, jolting slightly when she sees him so close, "Shit, hide, now."

She maneuvered herself far back in the side room, myself going behind the cannon.

Great thinking, Clem! Not.

Forcing myself to cease my mental beratings, I peered above my shield to find him attempting to stuff the bag in the trash can. I held back a snort, watching over in amusement as he hastily tried to no avail.

"Hey." I called out, standing up and strolling towards him till he pulled out a gun, "I just want to talk."

He stared at me with a deserved sense of wariness, his hand shaking terribly while he cradled the bag to his side protectively, "Do you understand me?"

"Yes," He replied quickly, his facial features showing unease, "I am Arvo. I am going to go; I don't want to shoot. I don't want to shoot anyone, especially, ah," He paused, speaking in a foreign language for a moment before clarifying, "A uh, little girl."

My eyebrows furrowed at being called a little girl, but my eyes quickly widened when I saw Jane slyly sneak up on Arvo.

"You don't have to shoot anyone," I soothed, _"Just put the gun down."_

Right after I said that, she grabbed his jaw and his gun, pushing him away before aiming it at him, "Back up, put the gun down." He did so, looking shocked before he began glaring daggers, "Clem, make sure he doesn't have any weapons on him or in the bag."

I stared wide eyed at her, pitying the older boy greatly. Hesitantly I stood to my full height of 5'8", taking steps towards him before check his pockets and shoes. I tried to leave it at that, but Jane prompted me forward. I felt like crying out of embarrassment for myself and him as I patted him down, avoiding certain areas that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

"Oh look at that," I muttered mockingly to her, "He has nothing else on him. Looks like all that was in vain."

"Can't be too safe." She shrugged, a catty smile on her face.

Fuck you.

I stepped away from Arvo—who might I add looked relieved at his new space, and checked the bag a few paces away from his feet.

"Holy shit." I gasped, staring down at the bag in awe as I picked one up.

Painkillers.

"Whoa..." Jane let out, spotting the amount of pill bottles stuffed inside, "That's a serious stash of meds."

"No no no no!" Arvo exclaimed, "Take whatever you want, but don't take that medicine; it's for my sister! My older sister, she is sick. The pain makes her cry, and that makes those things come—please!"

He stared at me pleadingly, prompting me to return my gaze back to the painkillers, "Just you and your sister?"

"No, I have many friends," He confessed, "In the woods."

"Sister or not, we could really use that stuff." She said almost teasingly, pacing towards him.

"No!" He cried, "You are not nice people! You have already left me defenseless, and now you take my sister's medicine? You are—," He spoke in his native tongue, the foreign language not coming easily to him in his time of shock.

"Hey, we've got people who are suffering—who need this medicine!" Jane yelled, "Clementine, look at all of this!"

"My people are suffering just as much as yours! You are not special!" Arvo argued, "'Clementine', yes? You must believe me."

I stayed silent for a moment, standing up to look him in the eye properly. He looked terribly desperate, and while I doubt he was being truthful he's still human.

Nodding slightly, I bent back down and zipped up the bag before throwing it to him.

"You not taking them?" Jane questioned, disbelief coloring her tone.

"I honestly don't give a fuck if he's being truthful or not. He's still human, and I doubt he's actually by himself," I calmly informed her, "If they don't need them now, they may later. I'm not robbing anybody."

I liked to think Lee would be proud.

Arvo began to speak in another language before catching himself, "Thank you, Clementine, thank you!"

When Jane began to stroll towards him with intent, I knew something was wrong. It only proved my point when she grabbed him by the collar and smashed him into the railing, pointing a gun to his head.

"No, what are you doing?" He croaked, "You don't have to do this!"

"Jane, what the fuck are you doing?" I shouted, grabbing her hands and pushing her back, going in between them, "What would your sister think? He's barely older than me!"

She paused for a moment, staring at me in shock. I took this time to shove the meds back into his hands after sliding a spare knife in there. It was rusted, but at least he could defend himself.

"Take this and go. I put a weapon in it, just _don't come back_." I told him sternly, praying to whatever the fuck is above that I wouldn't regret this.

"Thank you so much, Clementine, I will not forget this!" He mumbled quickly, fumbling over his grasp on the heavy bag before moving as quickly as he could, considering his leg brace, down the stairs and far, far away.

At least, I hope so.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, shit. This chapter is two hours late from when I promised I'd upload it, woops! Shout out to Arvosexual on Tumblr though—I accidentally found her on there and saw she blogged about this fanfic. Bless your Arvocado soul.**

**Thank you to all who have taken the time to read, favorite, follow, or review! It means a lot 3.**

**Sorry for the lack of Arvo—he'll be in here next chapter shhhhhh**

**1234567890**

"I wish Alvin was here."

That whispered confession from the pregnant lady broke my heart, bringing my smaller hand to hers in means of comfort. She stared down at our entangled fingers, remembering how hers used to fit perfectly in between larger ones. I didn't know what to tell her—no, there isn't anything _to_ say.

Nothing would bring her husband back, nor is there anyway to be one hundred percent sure that the baby is his.

No one knows who the baby's father is.

The sad thing is that Alvin didn't even know what Carver had done to his love, but I'm certain that he'd treat the baby as if it was his own. He was just that kind of man. He would've been a great father.

"I know it's a waste of time," She muttered tiredly, "But I can't stop thinking about things I should've said to him—things I should've _talked_ about. I hadn't told him I loved him enough."

"He knew. He loved you and the baby very much." I consoled lightly, squeezing her hand.

That was all that needed to be said. Rebecca exhaled heavily, apparently feeling slightly better after my comforting. Suddenly her face scrunched in pain, withdrawing her hand from mine to lay both on her bulging stomach.

"Oh, shit!" She hissed, eyes closed and brows furrowed.

"I got this," Kenny dismissed, striding forward with a quickness to lay a hand on her shoulder, "We ain't seen Mike or Bonnie for a while. I'm not saying I don't trust 'em, but I'd appreciate it if you went and checked up on them."

"Yeah, go on ahead," She breathed, "I'll be fine."

Why does no one ask me what I want and just tells me what to do? I get it that I'm the youngest and therefore more fit for this shit, but I'm the only one getting work done.

Nonetheless, I let the topic go and went to check on Sarah. She's the closest friend I've ever had, and it's amazing to know someone your own age in times like these. I just hope nothing bad happens to her—we depend on each other.

The shorter girl was sitting on the grass, thighs pressed to her midsection while she stared down at the ground from her cracked glasses. She didn't pay any mind when I plopped myself down next to her, laying a hand onto hers.

"Hey, Sarah." I greeted, sending a slight smile at my best friend.

"They were going to leave me, weren't they?" She said sadly, leaning her head on my shoulder.

"Sarah, are you joking? Luke tried very hard to get you up, and I'd never leave you," I consoled, "And Jane has been in situations like that before, now she's very wary because of it. It's nothing against you."

"How come you didn't leave me?" Sarah asked.

"You're my best friend," I smiled, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You're my best friend, too." She confessed, "Best friends forever, right?"

"Forever." I agreed, latching my pinky finger around hers.

She sent a broken grin my way, withdrawing her hand, "I'm going to go help Kenny with Rebecca. Dad told me about what you should do."

"Good luck," I murmured, "She's in more pain than she's letting on."

"Same to you, be careful out there," She whispered, "We can't...We can't take anymore."

With a nod and a hug, I set out to find Bonnie and Mike. Hopefully they've found something—we could really use whatever supplies we can get our hands on.

Well, without stealing, anyways.

**1234567890**

"Hey, Clem!" Mike greeted, seemingly surprised by my sudden appearance.

"I thought you went off with Jane?" She questioned suspiciously, "She didn't take off, did she?"

"We found an observation deck with a gift shop. We think it'll be safe enough for Rebecca." I answered, not feeling sure enough to say I trust her.

Jane's usually a good girl, but she's flaky as fuck. Her experiences messed with her head—I doubt she would've threatened and attempted to rob a kid before her sister passed away. Hell, she stole Arvo's gun, leaving him defenseless. She wasn't happy with me for giving him a weapon, but I'm not about to send someone to their grave.

Bonnie expressed her happiness at Jane and I finding a place for the birth, and Mike told us all to look for things to aid her. Mike's a good man; he does what he can to help people.

Bonnie, on the other hand, I'm not too sure about.

Looking around, I immediately spot the cannons. I snorted, running a hand over one, "Shame these are filled up, huh?"

"It'd sure be handy!" Mike called, receiving a scoff from Bonnie.

"_And really loud." _She informed snidely.

Well then, someone can't take a joke.

Scrounging about, I eventually found a coat. The fabric was harsh and scratchy, yet it was made to stay warm. How did Bonnie or Mike not find it yet?

"I found an old coat. We could wrap the baby with it." I called, happily staring down at the gray jacket.

"Nice find, Clem!" Bonnie cheered, "I bet Rebecca would sure appreciate you thinkin' of the child."

"Well," I raised a brow, "That's what we're here for, right?"

Bonnie opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Mike, "That's great, but isn't gray the, uh, y'know?"

At our blank stares, he sighed and deadpanned, "We can't put Rebecca or her baby in a confederate coat."

"I doubt she'd be worried about that," I elucidated, "We can't afford to be picky. She'd understand."

"True, true." He contemplated, walking away to search for anything else useful.

Running my fingertips along the wall lazily, I stuck to the edges to see if there was anything else, when my fingers were halted. They had run into a water tap. I tested it, and as I expected it was empty.

Wait—water tap? Places usually have backup supplies for water, right?

My eyes immediately went to the door, tempting me to move away the box and endeavor to open it. Of course it was locked. I tried my hand at the shutter, forcing it up about a foot and a half before it stopped. Peering in, my efforts weren't in vain. There was water.

"Over here!" I shouted, "There's clean water!"

"That's just what we need!" Bonnie grinned, the smile slipping when she found the door locked, "Mike, wanna kick it down?"

"That'd make an awful lot of noise." He declined.

"Yeah... Y'know, maybe if someone was small enough, they could maybe squeeze through that gap there?" Bonnie said suggestively, turning her eyes to my form.

"Yeah, if only." I agreed sarcastically, "Too bad I'm not as small as I..."

She turned her puppy dog eyes on me. Bitch.

"Fine," I said reluctantly, "But if I get stuck you best help me."

Hatefully gazing at the gap between the counter and the shutter, I pushed myself between it as far as I could—AKA to my midsection.

"Oh, well would you look at that," I mocked, "I appear to be jammed here."

"Okay, okay, smart ass," she laughed, "I'll help you out."

Just as she grabbed my ankle, a gurgling jolted me as a walker peeked up, a bony hand clasped around my wrist. I let out a small shriek, attempting to flail away. Mike kicked down the door, grabbing the thing by it's neck to slam it against the wall, immediately knocking it down afterwards to pin it.

Bonnie was finally able to pull me out, her and I running to Mike's aid. I pulled out my screwdriver and shoved it inside it's neck, huffing when the gurgling died out.

"Well," breathed Mike, "That happened!" 

"I wasn't lying when I said I'm not as small as I used to be..." I muttered awkwardly, not quite sure what to say.

"But you're tough for your size!" Bonnie immediately instilled, slightly breathless from hauling my ass out.

"Shit," Mike nearly laughed, "You're tough for _my_ size."

"I'm sorry I asked you," apologized Bonnie, "But we need this water."

"It's whatever. At least we've got something to bring back." I nodded.

Mike lifted up one of the jugs of water with ease, while I struggled with mine. He strode over with the intent to help me, but I was finally able to get it up properly. I sent him a smug smile and shared a laugh with him.

"Good job there, Miss Sylvester Stallone." Mike joked.

"I try," I winked, "I try."

We strolled out, him with more ease than me. We raised an eyebrow of amusement when Bonnie waved us over, whisper shouting in an obvious way.

"Come on, stick close." murmured Mike, bending his knees slightly.

"It just walked on in like it owned the place," she smiled as we drew near, "Figured it'd make a nice meal."

"We can eat raccoon?" I asked skeptically, setting down my jug of water only after Mike dropped his.

"I'd eat the _shit_ out of that raccoon," Mike husked out, and at our disbelieving gazes he reiterated, "Not like—I mean, I just would be really happy to eat that raccoon. I'm starving."

"Fresh meat would go a long way with Rebecca." Bonnie stated solemnly, choosing to ignore Mike's awkwardness.

She peered over once again, alarming the raccoon greatly, "Shit! Don't let it get away!"

We ran for the raccoon, searching for it's hiding place. I pointed it out to Bonnie, her choosing to try to corner it in. Her efforts were left unrewarded, as the animal ran past her and towards me. I tried to grab onto it, but it ran past me and outside.

Mike pulled out a gun, trying to get a clean aim on it. Right as the raccoon slowed down, a nursery of baby raccoons peeked out from behind their mother.

"I'm even hungrier than I was before." mumbled Mike, earning a well deserved slap on the arm from Bonnie.

"I'm glad it got away, though." I admitted, a small smile pulling my lips.

"C'mon," Bonnie uttered, "Let's head back to the group." 

With that, Mike and I picked up the water jugs once again and set out on our way. I couldn't help but wish Lee were here; he'd love this place.


End file.
